The Pirate Bride
by Sonjadore
Summary: Written with the permission of DreaBean. The Princess Bride with the characters of Pirates of the Caribbean. With Jack bedridden, Anamaria decides to tell him a story...rated for suggestive themes/minor language Jack Sparrow...what'd you expect?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Princess Bride or Pirates of the Caribbean. Nor do I own the idea for this story. That honor belongs to DreaBean, who has graciously turned the story over to me. The first three chapter of her original story, called Storybook Story, are still on her profile, and I recommend that you read those before beginning this version. The beginning of this story is also similar to Gordon Korman's opening to Island: Book Two. Thus, I don't own it, no copyright infringement is intended, but I couldn't resist including it.**

A/N:

-Hello, I'm back with a new story (sort of…I can't claim it…see disclaimer). And yes, I know I've been neglecting Fallen Angel, but I just saw the Princess Bride (and the last time I saw Kingdom of Heaven was something like…six months ago….I have the script on my computer) so I decided to start on this.

-The beginning of this story is similar to Gordon Korman's opening to Island: Book Two. Thus, I don't own it, no copyright infringement is intended, but it was just so AWESOME and I couldn't resist.

-Like DreaBean's original, the characters of Pirates of the Caribbean have been cast in The Princess Bride. Some are the same, some are different (but Anamaria will have the same role, 'cause she's SO awesome and doesn't really fit in anywhere else…) So, here goes:

Buttercup: Elizabeth Swann

Westley: Will Turner (expect something different?)

Humperdink: Norrington

Count Rugen: Barbossa

Inigo: Jack (sorry-CAPTAIN Jack) Sparrow

Fezzick: Gibbs

Vizzini: Beckett (Jack Sparrow worked for Beckett at one point, so I thought it was fitting)

Anamaria: Narrator

Other Characters will be added as the story goes along.

* * *

_Jack Sparrow was the self-proclaimed greatest pirate in the Caribbean. He had sailed through numerous gales, broken an ancient curse, and escaped from his own execution. And now, he faced his greatest adversary._

_Pneumonia._

_The crew was in much debate over how he had contracted the illness, but the general consensus was that it had something to do with that unfortunate incident with the pond while Jack had been drunk. However, by popular vote, his shipmates had decided that he should be confined to bed rest until he was fully recovered._

"_No sniffle shall vanquish me!" Jack growled to thin air, struggling to rise. "I'm Captain--" He was cut off by the sudden onset of violent hacking. "--Jack Sparrow…" he finished feebly, falling back, head spinning._

"_Carry on like that and I shall be forced to tie you to the bed, Sparrow." Jack grinned deviously at the sound of the Jamaican voice._

"_Ah, but you would enjoy that."_

_Anamaria raised her hand as she stepped closer to the bed. Jack instinctively scooted towards the far edge. "Ah, ah! Can't hit me! I'm--" He sneezed. "--sick."_

"_So I see," Anamaria grumbled. "Now shut up, I'm going to tell you a story." She pulled out a weathered book from her jacket._

_Jack raised his eyebrows. "Aren't I a little old for that sort of thing?"_

"_My Ma used to read this to me when I was sick. And," she added with a stern glare, "I've had enough of yer incessant complaining, so I'm going to read it to you, if it will shut you up."_

"_What's it about?"_

_Anamaria sighed. "Fighting. Fencing. Torture. Giants. Chases. Escapes. True love…"_

"_Bleh."_

"_Can I start?"_

_Jack dropped back on the pillows. "I'll try to stay awake."_

_The female pirate rolled her eyes. "Your vote of confidence is overwhelming." She opened the book. "Alright, then. 'The Princess Bride, by S. Morgenstern. Chapter One…'"_

"'_Elizabeth was raised on a small farm in the country of Florin. Her favorite pastimes were riding her horse…"_

"_I hate horses."_

"_Shuddup. '…and tormenting the farm boy that worked there. His name was William, but she never called him that.'_

"'_Nothing gave Elizabeth as much pleasure as ordering William around.'"_

Elizabeth strode boldly to the stable doors, leading her horse. "Farm boy. Polish my horse's saddle. I want to see my face shining in it by morning."

"As you wish," William replied softly, his deep brown eyes never leaving her face.

"'_As you wish was all he ever said to her.'"_

Elizabeth flung a pair of buckets at Will the next week. "Farm boy. Fill these with water…" Her breath caught as their eyes met. "Please?" she added softly.

"As you wish."

"'_That day, she was amazed to discover that when he was saying 'As you wish', what he meant was 'I love you'. And even more amazing was the day she realized she truly loved him back.'"_

_Jack snorted._

Elizabeth looked up as she heard soft footsteps enter the room. "Farm boy!" she said, stopping as William turned to face her. "Fetch me that pitcher," she requested, pointing to an easily accessible point for her.

Will moved towards her until they were close enough to touch. He reached up to remove the pitcher, and handed it to her. "As you wish," he said, his voice barely above a whisper as they gazed deep into each others eyes.

Later that day, just as the sun was beginning to set, casting a ruby glow over the plains, Will and Elizabeth stood together, their heads dipped together. Their lips softly met…

"_Oh, please…"_

"_What?!"_

"_Kissing bores me…"_

"_Doesn't in Tortuga…"_

"_There is a distinct difference between…"_

_Anamaria cut him off before the conversation became…lewd._

"'_Will had no money for marriage. So he packed his few belongings and left the farm to seek his fortune across the sea. It was a very emotional time for Elizabeth…'"_

"_Give me a break…"_

Elizabeth buried her face into Will's shoulder. "I fear I'll never see you again."

Will rubbed her back soothingly. "Of course you will."

Elizabeth choked on a suppressed sob. "But what if something happens to you?"

Will tipped her chin up so he could look into her eyes. "Hear this now: I will come for you."

"But how can you be sure?"

Her love smiled. "This is true love. You think this happens every day?"

The corners of her mouth turned up in a slight smile before she threw her arms around his neck. Their lips locked in a passionate embrace. Will pulled away, walking towards the south as Elizabeth watched.

"'_Will didn't reach his destination. His ship was attacked by the Dread Pirate Roberts, who never left captives alive. When Elizabeth got the news that Will was murdered…"_

_Jack suddenly sat up straighter. "You never said anything about pirates!"_

_Anamaria ignored him. "'She went into her room and shut the door. And for days, she neither slept nor ate.'"_

Elizabeth stared sadly out of her window. All her tears had been spent in the past days. "I will never love again," she said, her voice emotionless.

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or The Princess Bride. DreaBean owns the original idea for this story.**

A/N:

-Not a lot to say, so I'll just fly into the story! Oh, and most of this comes from the script, which can be found at . As we know, the script was written by the author of the book, so it's very good, and I didn't want to change such an incredible classic up too much. So just so you know, I can't claim this.

"'_Five years later, the main square of Florin City was filled as never before to hear the announcement of the great Prince Norrington's bride-to-be.'_

Norrington stood in his royal robes on the balcony, bearing a presence of incredible power. He was accompanied by the ageing king and queen, and a dark, bearded man, his only match in strength, Count Barbossa. He raised a hand for silence.

"My people!" he proclaimed, his voice carrying across the square. "A month from now, our country will have its 500th anniversary. On that sundown, I shall marry a lady--"

"_I love weddings! It's like a wager to see who will fall out of love first!"_

"_I'll take that wager."_

"-- who was once a commoner like yourselves--" he paused to let the astounding fact sink in "--but perhaps you will not find her common now. Would you like to meet her?"

A booming YES roared across the courtyard like a crashing wave.

As a figure stepped down the grand staircase, the crowd collectively held its breath. The figure became visible.

It was Elizabeth, resplendent in a glimmering silk gown. The sun illuminated her face, accentuating her perfect, beautiful, sad features. She looked angelic.

"My people…the Princess Elizabeth!"

The crowd parted to let her through, lowering to their knees with no instruction at all. Elizabeth's eyes filled with tears at the gesture; that the people would consider her their princess, instead of the grief-stricken young woman she was. Her eyes drifted back to her betrothed, who looked at her as though she were a precious jewel…

"'_Elizabeth's emptiness consumed her. Although the law of the land gave Norrington the right to choose his bride, she did not love him.'"_

"_Oh. So much for that wager."_

"_You owe me a ship, Sparrow."_

"_You cheated!"_

"_Pirate."_

Elizabeth barreled through the woodlands, controlling her horse easily.

"'_Despite Norrington's reassurance that she would grow to love him, the only joy she found was in her daily ride.'"_

Elizabeth reined her horse in at a deserted glen. The waters of the Florin Channel could be seen through the trees, glinting in the sunset.

"A word, my lady?"

She started, and turned to face three men standing close together in the path. They weren't ordinary: in front was a short man with the most innocent face. Beside him was a dark man with long dreadlocks and kohl-lined eyes. In the background was a giant.

"We are but poor, lost circus performers. Is there a village nearby?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "There is nothing nearby; not for miles."

"Then there will be no one to hear you scream."

The giant stepped forward, gripping a nerve on her neck. A pathetic squeak, the beginnings of a scream were all she managed before the blackness gripped her.

Jack busied himself with preparing the boat as the giant, Gibbs, carried the unconscious girl on board. Beckett ripped some tiny pieces of fabric from an army jacket, tucking them into the horse's saddle. Jack looked over. "What is that you're ripping?"

"It's fabric from the uniform of an Army officer of Guilder," Beckett answered without stopping or turning around.

"Who's Guilder?" Gibbs asked with a confused air.

Beckett jabbed a finger across the channel. "The country across the sea. The sworn enemy of Florin," he said with the air of having to explain the obvious to a young child. He slapped the horse's rump. "Go!" The rag-tag trio boarded the boat.

"Once the horse reaches the castle, the fabric will make the Prince suspect the Guilderians have abducted his love. When he finds her body dead on the Guilder frontier, his suspicions will be totally confirmed."

"You never said anything about killing anyone," Gibbs said.

"I've hired you to help me start a war. That's a prestigious line of work with a long and glorious tradition," Beckett said in mock hurt.

"I just don't think it's right, killing an innocent girl."

Beckett whirled around. "Am I going mad or did the word "think" escape your lips? You were not hired for your brains, you hippopotamic land mass!"

"I agree with Gibbs." Jack had decided to interject his own professional opinion.

That only made Beckett even angrier. "Oh! The sot has spoken! What happens to her is not truly your concern -- I will kill her--" he raised his voice. "And remember this--NEVER forget this--" He advanced on the duo. Gibbs backed away, alarmed, but Jack's face remained impassive. "--when I found you, you were so slobbering drunk you couldn't buy rum! And you --!" Gibbs retreated. "friendless, brainless, helpless, hopeless! Do you want me to send you back to where you were, unemployed, in Tortuga?!" Beckett cast one last venomous glare before stomping away.

Jack sidled up to Gibbs, who still seemed distressed over the insults he had received.

"That Beckett, he can fuss," Jack said softly while casting off.

"Fuss…fuss…" Gibbs muttered, then brightened up. "I think he likes to scream at us," he said emphasizing the last word.

"Probably he means no harm."

"He's really very short on…charm!"

Jack grinned proudly. "Oh, you've a great gift for rhyme."

Gibbs started to smile. "Yes, some of the time."

Beckett whirled on them again. "Enough of that!"

"Gibbs, are there rocks ahead?" Jack asked gleefully, knowing it would get Beckett's goat.

"If there are, we'll all be dead!" Gibbs added cheerfully.

"No more rhymes now, I mean it!"

"Anybody want a peanut?"

Beckett screamed in anger.

Jack steered the boat across the dark waters. "We'll reach the cliffs by dawn," Beckett noted. Jack nodded, then glanced over his shoulder. "Why are you doing that?" Beckett added, irritated.

"Making sure nobody's following us," Jack said nonchalantly.

"That would be inconceivable."

Elizabeth removed her gaze from the black horizon. "Despite what you think, you will be caught. And when you are, the Prince will see you all hanged."

Beckett eyed Elizabeth coldly. "Of all the necks on this boat, Highness, the one you should be worrying about is your own."

Jack continued to stare over his shoulder.

"Stop doing that. We can all relax, it's almost over-"

Jack frowned. "You sure nobody's following us?"

"As I told you, it would be absolutely, totally, and in all other ways, inconceivable. No one in Guilder knows what we've done. And no one in Florin could have gotten here so fast." Beckett paused. "Out of curiosity, why do you ask?"

"No reason. It's only, I just happened to look behind us, and something is there."

Beckett leapt up. "What?!"

The three spun over the bow, staring back. It was dark, hard to see, the moon behind the clouds, hiding anything from sight. But the moon slipped through, revealing a black sailboat, it's black sail billowing. And it was closing the gap like hell.

Beckett mustered up as much logic as he could. "Probably some local fisherman out for a pleasure cruise at night through eel-infested waters."

A sudden splash sounded. Elizabeth had dived into the water and was starting to swim away.

"Get in! Go after her!" Beckett screeched. The plan couldn't fail now!

"I don't swim," Jack said.

"_Doesn't swim?!" Captain Sparrow snorted._

"I only dog paddle," Gibbs answered in response to the unasked question.

"Veer left. Left!" Beckett ordered.

Elizabeth, still close to the boat, switched from a crawl to a silent breast stroke. The wind died, and as it did, a new sound rose…A not-to-distant high-pitched shrieking sound. Elizabeth stopped suddenly, treading water, feeling a panic rising inside her breast.

"Do you know what that sound is, Highness?" Beckett asked tauntingly. "Those are the Shrieking Eels -- if you doubt me, just wait. They always grow louder when they're about to feed on human flesh."

The shrieking grew closer, becoming more terrifying. Elizabeth remained silent.

"If you swim back now, I promise, no harm will come to you. I doubt you will get such an offer from the Eels."

Elizabeth didn't move, staying as silent as possible. Something dark and gigantic slithered past behind her. An eel had zeroed in on her, and was now closing, circling around her. Elizabeth swallowed a scream as the eel came closer…closer…its jaws opened wide, baring needle sharp teeth…it was all over…

"_She doesn't get eaten by the eels at this time."_

"_Wha-?"_

_Anamaria adopted a motherly tone. "The eel doesn't get her. I'm explaining to you because you looked nervous."_

"_I was concerned! That's not the same thing!"_

"_I can stop if you want."_

"_No, no…you go on…if you're enjoying yourself."_

_Anamaria began to read again. "'Do you know what that sound is, Highness? Those are the shrieking eels."_

"_You read that already."_

"_Beg your pardon _Captain. _Well, then, let's see…__Uh, she was in the water, the Eel was coming after her. She was frightened. The Eel started to charge her. And then -"_

The eel's jaws were ready to clamp down on her…and then a giant arm struck down on the eel, pounding it unconscious, then easily lifted Elizabeth into the boat. Gibbs deposited her back on the deck.

"Put her down. Put her down!" Beckett snapped.

Jack pointed behind him. "I think he's getting closer."

Beckett tied Elizabeth's hands with a rough length of rope. "He's no concern of ours. Sail on! I suppose you think you're brave, don't you?" he added to Elizabeth.

She stared at him deeply. "Only compared to some."

TBC…

**Love? Hate? Am I completely butchering it? Let me know!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Princess Bride or Pirates of the Caribbean. The original idea for this story belongs to DeaBean.**

A/N:

-Most of this is taken from the script at godamonydirectors

* * *

It was dawn now. The trio's boat was still being followed closely by the black sailboat, steered by a man in black.

"Look!" Jack exclaimed. "He's right on top of us! I wonder if he is using the same wind we are using."

"Whoever he is, he's too late!" Beckett said gleefully. He pointed ahead. "See? The Cliffs of Insanity!"

The aforementioned cliffs rose straight up, sheer from the water, impossibly high. The two sailboats raced wildly for the cliffs, the black sailboat closing in faster than ever. But the lead was too great to overcome, and Jack sailed with great precision straight towards the Cliffs.

"Hurry up!" Beckett snapped. "Move the thing. No…the other thing! Move it!" He stared back with a maniacal grin. "We're safe…only Gibbs is strong enough to go up our way--he'll have to sail around for hours 'til he finds a harbor!"

Elizabeth watched with mild fascination -- and much trepidation at the activity, all of it swift, expert, calculated. Gibbs reached up the face, reaching behind a jutting rock to remove a thick rope. He gave the rope a freeing swing, revealing that the rope reached all the way to the top of the Cliffs.

Jack strapped a harness to Gibbs, then lifted Elizabeth and Beckett into the leather straps, before jumping in himself. Now that the three were attached to Gibbs, he began to ascend the rope, carrying the others along with him. Elizabeth closed her eyes, almost out of her mind with fear.

"_With Gibbs now a third of the way up, the man in black leapt from his ship to the rope, beginning to climb. The impossible lead Gibbs had did not deter him; if anything, it encouraged him. He flew up the rope, hand over hand like lightning."_

Jack looked down. "He's climbing the rope."

"Inconceivable!" Beckett prodded Gibbs, who increased his pace.

"_Even with the increase in speed, the man in black continued to cut into Gibbs' lead…"_

"Faster!" Beckett shrieked.

"I thought I was going faster," Gibbs said, perplexed.

"You were supposed to be this colossus! You were this great, legendary thing! And yet he gains!"

"I'm carrying three people. He's only got himself."Beckett cut through. "I do not accept excuses! I'm just going to have to find myself a new giant, that's all."

"Don't say that, Beckett. Please," Gibbs said, hurt, beginning to slow.

"Did I make it clear that your job is at stake?" Beckett screeched.

With a last reserve of his massive strength, Gibbs reached the top. Elizabeth collapsed, immensely relieved to feel solid ground beneath her. Beckett leapt for the rope, beginning to cut through it with a gleaming dagger. As he sawed through the last of it, the rope slipped over the edge, like some great serpent, before vanishing into the channel.

The three peered over the edge. "He has very good arms," an impressed Gibbs said to Jack.

The man in black hung suspended, holding the jagged rocks, clinging to the last chance for survival.

"He didn't fall? Inconceivable!"

"You keep using that word…I do not think it means what you think it means," Jack said. He looked down again. "My God! He's climbing!"

"_And so he was. Very slowly, he picked his way upwards, sometimes a foot, sometimes an inch…"_

"Whoever he is, he's seen us with the Princess, and must therefore die." Beckett turned to Gibbs. "You, carry her," he spun around to Jack. "We'll head straight for the Guilder frontier. Catch up when he's dead. If he falls, fine. If not, the sword."

Jack nodded. "I want to duel him left-handed."

"You know what a hurry we're in!"

"Well, it's the only way I can be satisfied. If I use my right -- tch --over too quickly."

"Oh, have it your way," Beckett snapped impatiently.

Gibbs went over to Jack. "You be careful. People in masks cannot be trusted," he said gravely.

"I'm waiting!"

Gibbs hurried off after Beckett.

Jack watched them depart, then peered down the cliff. He watched a moment, then paced, shook his hands loose. He practiced a few of his honed fencing techniques. By nature, Jack was not a very patient man.

He looked down the cliffs again. "Hello there!"

The man in black grunted.

Jack pushed on. "Slow going?"

The stranger's answer floated up on the wind. "Look, I don't mean to be rude, but this is not as easy as it looks. So I'd appreciate it if you didn't distract me."

"Sorry."

"Thank you."

Jack stepped away, drew his sword, and loosened up with a few well-practiced jabs. Then he resheathed the blade and looked over the edge eagerly again. "I do not suppose you could speed things up?" he asked hopefully.

"If you're in such a hurry, you could lower a rope, or a tree branch, or find something useful to do."

"I could do that," Jack said brightly. "In fact, I've got some rope up here. But I do not think that you will accept my help, since I am only waiting around to kill you," he added thoughtfully.

"That does put a damper on our relationship."

"But I promise not to kill you until you reach the top."

"That's very comforting," the man in black said sarcastically. "But I'm afraid you'll just have to wait."

"I hate waiting," Jack mumbled. He brightened again. "I could give you my word as a Spaniard!"

The answer sounded strained. "No good! I've known too many…Spaniards."

"You don't know any way you'll trust me?"

"Nothing comes to mind."

Jack raised his right hand. His eyes blazed with black fire, and he spoke in a tone rarely heard:

"I swear on the soul of my father, Keith Teague, you will reach the top alive."

The man in black paused. "Throw me the rope."

Jack rushed over to the large rock to which the rope was tied. He unwound it, then threw it over the edge of the cliff. The man in black released the rocks as he grabbed the rope, and, for a moment, hung helplessly in space. Jack forced his body away from the edge, muscles straining. Slowly, the cliff top came into reach, and the man in black finally crawled to safety. "Thank you," he said, beginning to draw his sword.

Jack stopped him. "We'll wait until you're ready."

"Again, thank you." The man turned to rest on the rock formerly holding the rope in place. He tugged off a leather boot, letting several large rocks fall out.

Jack stared at his black gloves. "I do not mean to pry, but you don't by any chance happen to have six fingers on your right hand?"

The man in black looked up, clearly baffled by the question. "Do you always begin conversations this way?"

"My father was slaughtered by a six-fingered man."

The man in black raised his right hand, displaying five fingers -- no more.

"He was a great sword-maker, my father," Jack said proudly.

* * *

_Captain Jack snorted. "Sounds like Will."_

* * *

"And when the six fingered man appeared and requested a special sword, my father took the job. He slaved a year before it was done."

* * *

"_Fits Will to a T."_

* * *

Jack handed his sword to the man in black, who inspected it, impressed. "I have never seen its equal."

And why should he have? From the intricate gold handle to the gleaming razor-sharp blade, the sword spoke of skill and passion.

Even now, the subject was still painful to discuss. ""The six-fingered man returned and demanded it, but at one-tenth his promised price. My father refused. Without a word, the six-fingered man slashed him through the heart. I loved my father, so, naturally, challenged his murderer to a duel ... I failed ... the six-fingered man did leave me alive with the six-fingered sword, but he gave me these." Here, Jack touched the twin scars on his high cheekbones.

"How old were you?"

"I was eleven years old. When I was strong enough, I dedicated my life to the study of fencing. So the next time we meet, I will not fail. I will go up to the six-fingered man and say, 'Hello. My name is Jack Sparrow. You killed my father. Prepare to die.'"

"You've done nothing but study swordplay?"

Jack shrugged. "More pursuit than study lately. You see, I cannot find him. It's been twenty years now. I am starting to lose confidence. I just work for Beckett to pay the bills. There's not a lot of money in revenge."

The man in black began to stand, handing back the sword. "Well, I certainly hope you find him someday."

"You are ready, then?"

"Whether I am or not, you've been more than fair."

Jack assumed a fencing position. "You seem a decent fellow. I hate to kill you."

The man in black drew his sword and stood a few paces away. "You seem a decent fellow. I hate to die."

"Begin!"

"_And on that word, one of the greatest sword fights of the age began, but even from the beginning, it was different. Both were too far away to do any apparent damage, but both were masters. Each time one made the tiniest feint, the other countered. Then silence followed, and the two began to circle. And then, the two began to duel in earnest. Their swords crossed, again and again, the sound continuous. As Jack pressed on, the man in black retreated up the rocky line, towards the stone ruins."_

"You're using Bonetti's defense against me, ah?" Jack said over the clang of steel.

"I thought it fitting, considering the rocky terrain," the man in black replied casually, as though the two were debating the skills over drinks.

"Naturally, you must expect me to attack with Capo Ferro--" Jack shifted his style suddenly.

"Naturally." The man in black responded while shifting his style. "-- but I find Thibault cancels out Capo Ferro, don't you?"

Now perched on the edge of the castle ruin, the man in black jumped down into the sand.

"Unless the enemy has studied his Agrippa--" Jack somersaulted off the edge, landing to face his adversary. "-- Which I have."

"_The two men flew across the terrain, never losing balance, never coming close to stumbling. The battle raged with finesse, first one than the other gaining the advantage. Behind them, the deadly edge of the Cliffs of Insanity grew closer. Jack fought and ducked, feinted and slashed, and it all worked, but not for long. The man in black gradually kept the advantage, forcing Jack back, closer and closer to death._

"You are wonderful!" Jack exclaimed, happy as a clam.

"Thank you -- I've worked hard to become so."

The Cliff edge was very close now, and Jack was continuously being forced toward it.

"I admit it," Jack said. "You are better than I am."

"Then why are you smiling?"

For a man close to defeat, Jack was all smiles. "Because I know something you don't know."

"And what is that?"

"I am not left-handed."

"'_Jack threw the six-fingered sword into his right hand, and, immediately, the tide of battle turned._

"'_Stunned, the man in black did everything he could to keep Jack by the cliff's edge, but to no avail. Slowly at first, he began to retreat as Jack gained control._

"'_The six-fingered sword was all but invisible now. Jack increased his attack, suddenly switching style yet again. The man in black was forced to retreat rapidly up a rocky staircase. In a frenzy, the man in black made every feint, tries every thrust, using every skill he had. But he failed; everything failed. He tried one final desperate move, but they are nothing.'"_

"You're amazing!"

"I ought to be after twenty years," Jack said.

The man in black was smashed into a stone pillar, pinned there by the six-fingered sword.

"There's something I ought to tell you."

"Tell me," Jack demanded.

"I am not left -handed, either."

"'_The man in black changed hands, and at last, the battle was fully joined. To Jack's amazement, he was forced back down the steps. He tried one style, then another, but the man in black remained in control. The sword was knocked from Jack's hand._

"'_Jack dove from the stairs to a moss-covered bar suspended over an archway. He swung out, landed, and scrambled to his sword._

"'_The man in black watched Jack, then casually tossed his sword to the landing where it stuck in perfectly. He then copied Jack, but with one small change: he dove to the bar and swung completely over it like a circus performer and landed with a back flip next to his sword.'"_

Jack stared in amazement. "Who are you?!"

"No one of consequence."

"I must know," Jack insisted.

"Get used to disappointment."

"Okay."

"'_Jack moved like lightning, thrusting forward, slashing, darting back, all in one fluid movement. The man in black dodged, blocked, again thrusting forward faster than ever before. On it went, back and forth across the rocky terrain, Jack's feet moving with the grace and speed of a great improvisational dancer._

"'_The six fingered sword was knocked free again. Jack caught it, a horrible realization dawning on him. He had given it his all, done everything any man could do, tried every style, every maneuver, but it wasn't enough. He, the famous swordsman Jack Sparrow, was going to loose.'"_

The man in black moved in for the end, sending the sword flying from Jack's grasp. Jack stood helplessly for a moment. Then he dropped to his knees, bowed his head, and shut his eyes. "Killed me quickly," he implored.

"I would as soon destroy a stained glass window as an artist like yourself. However, since I can't have you following me either --" He knocked Jack over the head with the heavy hilt of his sword. Jack pitched forward, unconscious.

"Please understand, I hold you in the highest respect." And with that, the man in black took after the Princess.

TBC…


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Princess Bride or Pirates of the Caribbean. The original idea for this story belongs to DeaBean.**

A/N:

-Most of this is taken from the script at godamongdirectors.

-I know I'm ignoring Fallen Angel, sorry! I'm at a block with it, so I'm writing this in the meantime. I will continue with the other as soon as possible. Once again, sorry!

* * *

"Inconceivable!" Beckett exclaimed, staring down from a narrow mountain path at the man in black. "Give her to me!" He grabbed Elizabeth from Gibbs and started off. "Catch up quickly."

Gibbs started to panic. "What do I do?"

"Finish him, finish him! Your way."

"Oh, good. My way. Thank you, Beckett." He paused. "What is my way?"

Beckett pointed at the rocks nearby. "Pick up one of those rocks, get behind the boulder, and in a few minutes, the Man in Black will come running around the bend. The minute his head is in view, hit it with the rock!" He and Elizabeth ran off.

Gibbs frowned. "My way's not very sportsmanlike…" he mumbled to himself as he picked up a rock and plodded off behind the boulder.

* * *

The man in black raced up the mountain trail. As he neared a bend, he paused, listening. Satisfied by the silence, he started forward again. Just as he rounded the bend, a rock flew through the air, shattering on a boulder mere inches in front of him.

Gibbs stepped out from his hiding place, holding another rock lightly, as many other people would hold an apple. "I that on purpose," he explained. "I didn't have to miss."

"I believe you," the man in black said. "So what happens now?""We face each other as God intended. Sportsmanlike. No tricks, no weapons, skill against skill alone."

"You mean, you'll put down your rock and I'll put down my sword and we'll try to kill each other like -- civilized people?"

Gibbs raised his rock. "I could kill you now."

The man in black put down his sword and scabbard and approached the giant. "Frankly, I think the odds are slightly in your favor at hand fighting."

"It's not my fault for being the biggest and the strongest." Gibbs flipped the rock away. "I don't even exercise."

Gibbs towered over the man in black. There was a moment's pause, and then the man in black dove at Gibb's chest, slammed him with several tremendous blows to the stomach, twisted his arm severely, slipped into a beautifully applied bear hug, and, in general, made any number of terrific wrestling moves.

Gibbs just stood in the same place, taking in the scenery. The man in black pushed himself away and stared up at the giant. "Look, are you just fiddling around with me or what?"

"I just want to you feel you're doing well," Gibbs said encouragingly. "I hate for people to die embarrassed."

Gibbs jumped forward with stunning speed for anyone his size, and reached for the man in black, who dropped to his knees, spun loose, and slipped between the giant's legs.

"You're quick!" Gibbs exclaimed.

"And a good thing too."

Gibbs prepared for another onslaught. "Why do you wear a mask? Were you burned by acid, or something like that?"

"Oh, no. It's just that they're terribly comfortable. I think everyone will be wearing them in the future."

Gibbs considered this for a moment, than attacked with blinding speed. The man in black slipped down to avoid the charge, but, instead of twisting free and jumping to his feet, the man in black jumped for Gibb's back, catching a free piggy-back ride. He locked his arms around Gibb's windpipe, one in front, one behind. He began to squeeze.

"I just figured out why you give me so much trouble," Gibbs said, as he charged toward a huge rock lining the path. Just as he reached it, he spun around, so the full weight of the charge was taken by the man in black.

His arms never left Gibb's throat. "Why is that, do you think?"

"Well, I haven't fought just one person for so long. I've been specializing in groups. Battling gangs for local charities, that kind of thing," Gibbs said, his voice beginning to become strange. He charged again, smashing the man in black against the rock.

"Why should that make such a difference?" the man in black asked, winded.

"Well…" Gibbs began, "…You see, you use different moves when you're fighting half a dozen people than when you only have to be worried about one." He slammed his opponent against the boulder again, only this time with diminished strength. He began to slowly collapse. The man in black increased his grip as Gibbs tried to stand. He made it halfway, before falling back to his knees from lack of air. He held there for a moment, then pitched onto all fours. The man in black increased the pressure again. Gibbs tried a few more half-hearted moves to throw the man off his back, but there was no air. He collapsed to the ground and lied still.

The man in black turned him over and put his ear to Gibb's heart. Satisfied with the beat, he stood. "I don't envy the headache you will have when you awake. But, in the meantime, rest well…dream of large women."

He nimbly scooped up his sword with his feet, caught it, and dashed up the mountain path.

* * *

Prince Norrington slipped his boot into a footprint in the sand. Count Barbossa, mounted, watched. Behind him were half a dozen armed warriors, also mounted.

"There was a mighty duel," Norrington said, miming fencing movements. "It ranged all over. They were both masters."

"Who won? How did it end?" Barbossa asked.

Norrington looked down at the indentation where Jack had fallen. "The loser ran off alone…" he pointed in the direction Beckett and Gibbs had taken. "The winner followed those footprints toward Guilder!"

"Shall we track them both?" Barbossa inquired.

"The loser is nothing. Only the princess matters!" The prince addressed the warriors. "We must be ready for whatever lies ahead!"

"Could this be a trap?"

Norrington vaulted onto his horse. "I always think everything could be a trap -- which is why I'm still alive." He galloped off.

* * *

The man in black crested the mountain peak to find a rather unusual sight: a picnic spread was laid out. Set out on the tablecloth was a leather cask of wine, two goblets, some cheese, and a couple of apples. Perched on the edge of the mountain path and with a view all the way back to sea, it would have been a lovely sight, save for the bound and blindfolded young woman -- Elizabeth. And holding a sharp knife to her throat was Beckett.

The two men studied each other. "So, it is down to you. And it is down to me," Beckett said. The man in black nodded and moved closer.

"If you wish her dead, by all means, keep moving forward."

"Let me explain--"

"There's nothing to explain! You're trying to kidnap what I've rightfully stolen!"

"Perhaps an arrangement can be reached."

"There will be no arrangement," Beckett said, adding deliberately, "And you're killing her!" He jabbed at Elizabeth's unprotected throat with the knife. She gasped in pain.

The man in black stopped fast. "But if there can be no arrangement, then we are at an impasse."

"I'm afraid so -- I can't compete with you physically. And you're no match for my brains."

"You're that smart?" the man in black asked skeptically.

"Let me put it this way: have you ever heard of Plato, Aristotle, Socrates?"

"Yes."

"Morons!"

"Really? In that case, I challenge you to a battle of wits."

Beckett considered. "For the Princess?"

The man in black nodded.

"To the death?"

Another nod.

Beckett chuckled. "I accept."

The man in black sat at the opposite end of the table. "Good. Then pour the wine."

As Beckett filled the goblets with the dark red liquid, the man in black pulled a small packet from his clothing, and handed it to Beckett. "Inhale this, but do not touch," he instructed.

Beckett complied. "I smell nothing."

The man in black took the packet back. "What you do not smell is called iocane powder. It is odorless, tasteless, dissolves instantly in liquid, and is among the more deadlier poisons known to man."

"Hmmm." Beckett watched excitedly as the man in black took the goblets and turned his back. A moment later, he turned again to face Beckett and dropped the now empty iocane packet. He rotated the goblets in a shell game maneuver, then put one glass in front of Beckett, the other in front of himself. "All right: where is the poison? The battle of wits has begun. It ends when you decide and we both drink, and find out who is right and who is dead?"

"But it's so simple!" Beckett exclaimed. "All I have to do is divine from what I know of you. Are you the sort of man who would put the poison into his own goblet, or his enemy's?" He studied the man in black.

"Now, a clever man would put the poison into his own goblet, because he would know that only a great fool would reach for what he was given. I'm not a great fool, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But you must have known I was not a great fool; you would have counted on it, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me."

* * *

"_How very clever," Jack said dryly. "Of course, a clever man would simply pull out his pistol, and --"_

"_They don't have pistols, Jack."_

"_What?!" He slumped on the pillows. "What kind of world is this?"_

* * *

"You've made your decision, then?" the man in black asked, a trace of nervousness beginning to show.

"Not remotely! Because iocane comes from Australia, as everyone knows. And Australia is entirely peopled with criminals. And criminals are used to having people not trust them, as you are not trusted by me. So I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you."

"Truly, you have a dizzying intellect."

"Wait till I get going!" Beckett cried, caught up in his own brilliance. He paused. "Where was I?"

"Australia."

"Yes -- Australia, and you must have suspected I would have known the powder's origin, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me."

The man in black appeared very nervous now. "You're just stalling now."

Beckett cackled. "You'd like to think that, wouldn't you?" He stared at the man in black. "You've beaten my giant, which means you're exceptionally strong. So, you could have put the poison in your own goblet, trusting on your strength to save you. So I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But, you've also bested my Spaniard which means you must have studied. And in studying, you must have learned that man is mortal so you would have put the poison as far from yourself as possible, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me."

As Beckett's pleasure was growing, the man in black's was disappearing. "You're trying to trick me into giving something away…it won't work."

"It worked!" Beckett said triumphantly. "You've given everything away! I know where the poison is!"

"Then make your choice," the man in black said with a fool's courage.

"I will. And I choose--" Beckett suddenly stopped, pointing at something behind the man in black. "What in the world can that be?"

The man in black whirled around, looking. "What? Where? I don't see anything?"

Beckett gleefully switched switched the goblets while the man' back was turned. "Oh, well, I-I could have sworn I saw something. No matter." He began to chuckle as the man in black turned to face him.

"What's so funny?"

"I'll tell you in a minute," Beckett said with a wave of his hand. "First, let's drink. Me from my glass, and you from yours."

They both picked up the goblets to drink. Beckett hesitated a moment, allowing the man in black to drink first before swallowing his own wine.

The man in black set his goblet down. "You guessed wrong."

Beckett roared with laughter. You only think I guessed wrong -- that's what's so funny! I switched the glasses when your back was turned! You fool!"

The man in black could say nothing.

"You fell victim to one of the classic blunders!" Beckett said gleefully. "The most famous is 'Never get involved in a land war in Asia.' But only slightly less well known is this: 'Never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line!'" He laughed and was in all ways quite cheery…until the laugh was suddenly cut off and he fell over dead.

The man in black calmly stepped past the corpse and took the bindings and blindfold off Elizabeth. She blinked, noticing Beckett lying dead. The man in black pulled her to her feet. "Who are you?" she asked.

"I am no one to be trifled with, that is all you ever need know." He began to lead her off the mountain path into unraveled terrain.

Elizabeth glanced back toward Beckett. "To think -- all that time it was your cup that was poisoned."

"They were both poisoned. I spent the last few years building up an immunity to iocane powder." And with that, the man in black took off, dragging Elizabeth behind him.

* * *

On the same mountain path where Gibbs had fought the man in black, the Prince knelt, inspecting every grain of misplaced sand while the others waited behind him. "Someone has beaten a giant! There will be great suffering in Guilder if she dies," he proclaimed.

He leapt back onto his horse, and they charged off.

TBC...

**So...? Please review! It takes all of five seconds! I need feedback!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Pirates of the Caribbean or The Princess Bride. The original idea for this story belongs to DeaBean.**

A/N:

-Most of this is taken from the script at godamongdirectors (anyone getting tired of hearing that? My conscience forced me to put it there…)

-So, just as an aside, I was discussing The Princess Bride with some friends the other day. One thing in particular came up: when Buttercup shoves Westly down that hill, and he says "As you wish", one of my friends hear "Fk you bth". Has this happened to anyone else?

-Yes, hello sesquipedalian. I think I've figured out who you are. And thank you for kindly reviewing (grumbles…finally). And I shall look into that grammar-wayofphrasing thimnga-majiggy…when I feel like it! MWAHAHAHA!!

-There are a few lines from AWE in here, no claim.

* * *

The man in black ran across a wild stretch of terrain, dragging a stumbling Elizabeth behind him. Only when she was close to exhaustion did he let go. "Catch your breath," he said harshly, his voice carrying the promise of violence.

"If you'll release me…whatever you ask for ransom…you'll get it, I promise you…" Elizabeth said, breathing heavily.

"And what is that worth, the promise of a woman?" He laughed sardonically. "You're very funny, highness."

"I was giving you a chance. No matter where you take me…there's no greater hunter than Prince Norrington. He can track a falcon on a cloudy day. He can find you," the young woman said with conviction.

"You think your dearest love will save you?"

"I never said he was my dearest love," Elizabeth snapped. "And yes, he will save me. That I know."

"You admit to me that you do not love your fiance."

"He knows I do not love him."

"'Are not capable of love', you mean."

"I have loved more deeply than a killer like yourself could ever dream!"

The man in black cocked a fist. Elizabeth flinched, but did not retreat. "That was a warning, highness," he said. "The next time, my hand flies on its own. From where I come from, there are penalties when a woman lies."

* * *

The Prince knelt by Beckett's body. He grabbed the empty poison packet, and handed it to Barbossa after sniffing it himself. "Iocane powder," he declared. "I'd bet my life on it." He gestured to the trail ahead. "And there are the Princess's footprints. She is alive…or was, an hour ago. If she is otherwise when I find her, I shall be very put out."

He vaulted onto his horse, and the contingent once again galloped off.

* * *

Elizabeth fell heavily as the man in black released her again. They were now at the edge of a sheer ravine. "Rest, Highness," the man in black ordered.

Elizabeth stared at him. "I know who you are -- your cruelty reveals everything." The man said nothing. "You're the Dread Pirate Roberts; admit it."

The man in black bowed with a flourish. "With pride. What can I do for you?"

"You can die slowly, cut into a thousand pieces," Elizabeth spat.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Hardly complimentary, Highness. Why loose your venom on me?"

"You killed my love," Elizabeth said quietly.

The man in black watched her closely. "It's possible. I kill a lot of people. Who was this love of yours? Another Prince, like this one, ugly, rich, and scabby?"

"No! A farm boy. Poor. Poor and perfect, with eyes like mahogany wood." If she did not hate Roberts so, there would have been tears. "On the high seas, your ship attacked, and the Dread Pirate Roberts never takes prisoners."

"I can't afford to make exceptions," Roberts said, explaining as though a teacher might. "Once word leaks out that a pirate has gone soft, people begin to disobey you, and then it's nothing but work, work, work, all the time."

"You mock my pain!"

"Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something. I remember this farm boy of yours, I think. This would be, what, five years ago?"

Elizabeth nodded.

"Does it bother you to hear?"

"Nothing you can say will upset me," the Princess said, emotionless.

"He died well, that should please you. No bribe attempts or blubbering. He simply said, 'Please. Please, I need to live.' It was the 'please' that caught my memory. I asked him what was so important for him. 'True love,' he replied. And then he spoke of a girl of surpassing beauty and faithfulness. I can only assume he meant you. You should bless me for destroying him before he found out what you really are."

"And what am I?"

"Faithfulness, he talked of, madam. Your enduring faithfulness. Now, tell me truly. When you found out he was gone, did you get engaged to your prince that same hour, or did you wait a whole week out of respect for the dead?"

Elizabeth sprang to her feet. "You mocked me once -- never do it again!"

He was about to reply as they stood there at the edge of the ravine, but something caught his attention, and he stared at it briefly.

A dust could raised by Norrington's horses floated to the sky.

With the man's attention diverted, she pushed his with all the strength she had. "You can die to for all I care!" she hissed angrily.

The man in black teetered for a moment on the ravine edge, then he began to fall, crashing, spinning down the sheer face.

Elizabeth stared transfixed with a strange satisfaction at what she had wrought. As she stood there, alone, words came drifting back to her on the wind:

"As…you…wish…"

Elizabeth gasped. "Oh, my sweet Will…what have I done?" Without second thought or consideration of the dangers, Elizabeth flung herself into the ravine, falling as well, twisting, cart wheeling down toward what was left of her beloved.

* * *

Norrington and the others reined in on the spot where Elizabeth had promised ransom in exchange for her freedom. He shook his head. "Disappeared. He must have seen us closing in, which might account for his panicking in error. Unless I'm wrong, and I am never wrong, they are headed dead into the fire swamp."

There mere mention of the Fire Swamp made Barbossa pale.

* * *

On the ravine floor, two bodies laid a few feet apart, not moving. The may very well have been corpses. After a time, Will slowly forced his body into movement, crawling towards a bruised and torn Elizabeth. Gently cradling her in his arms, he asked:

"Can you move at all?"

Elizabeth weakly stretched an arm towards him. "Move? You're alive. If you want, I can fly."

He gently brushed her face. "I told you, 'I would always come for you.' Why didn't you wait for me?"

Elizabeth hesitated. "Well…you were dead."

"Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while."

"I will never doubt again."

"There will never be a need." He gently lowered his head to hers, and their lips met in a loving, tender, gentle kiss…

* * *

"_Oh, no. No, please."_

"_What?!"_

"_They're…snogging!"_

"_Not snogging, were you not paying attention?"_

"_Eurgh. Skip ahead to the fire swamp, that at least sounded vaguely intriguing."_

"_Fine. You're sick. I'll humor you…"_

"_That, and I'd walk you off a plank if you refused."_

_Anamaria ignored him. "'Will and Elizabeth raced along the ravine floor…"_

* * *

Will glanced up as he and Elizabeth raced along the ravine floor. Norrington and his men were perched on top of the cliff, looking down at the pair. "Ha!" he exclaimed. "Your pig fiance is too late. A few more steps, and we'll be safe in the Fire Swamp."

Though he tried to say it with Chevalier-like nonchalance, Elizabeth didn't buy it. "We'll never survive…"

"Nonsense! You're only saying that because no one ever has."

The Fire Swamp was a moist, sumptuous, infernal horror. Great trees blocked the sun. Elizabeth was clearly panicked, and perhaps Will was, too, but he moved along jauntily, sword in hand.

"It's not that bad," he commented. "I'm not saying I'd like to build a summer home here, but the trees are actually quite lovely." In reality, the trees were thick, black-green, ominous as hell, and shielded all but intermittent stripes of sun. Elizabeth looked at him as though she feared he had lost his mind.

They had barely stepped forward when a giant spurt of flame leapt from the ground, preceded by a slight popping sound. It missed Will, but Elizabeth wasn't so lucky. She was suddenly on fire, or, at least, the hem of her dress was. Will immediately forced Elizabeth to sit, taking hold of the burning cloth, trying to suffocate it. With only his gloved hands, it wasn't an easy task. Though it caused him a bit of grief, he tried to sound as jaunty as before. "Well now, that was an adventure." He examined her burnt hem. "Singed a bit, were you?"

Wide-eyed, Elizabeth shook her head. "You?"

Despite the slight burns on his fingertips, he responded in kind. As he pulled her to her feet, another popping sound was heard. Will grabbed Elizabeth and pulled her to safety as another jet of flame erupted.

"Well, one thing I will say," Will commented mildly. "The Fire Swamp certainly does keep you on your toes." Elizabeth was frozen with fear. Will took her hand, and gently guided her forward.

* * *

It was later as the two moved through a particular dangerous part of the fire swamp.

"Soon this will all be but a happy memory as Roberts' ship 'Revenge' is anchored at the far end," Will said cheerfully. "And I, as you know, am Roberts."

"But how is that possible, since he's been marauding twenty years and you only left me five years ago?" Elizabeth asked.

"I myself am often surprised at life's little quirks." Again, a popping sound was heard. Without missing a beat, Will swept Elizabeth out of danger. "You see, what I told you before about saying 'please' was true. It intrigued Roberts, as did my descriptions of your beauty." Some hideous vines, looking as though they could be flesh eating, fell overhead. Will drew his sword and sliced them out of the way, chatting the entire time. "Finally, Roberts decided something. He said, 'Alright, Will, I've never had a valet. You can try it for tonight. I'll most likely kill you in the morning.' Three years he said that. 'Good night, Will. Good work. Sleep well. I'll most likely kill you in the morning.' It was a fine time for me. I was learning to fence, to fight, anything anyone would teach me. And Roberts and I eventually became friends. And then it happened."

"What? Go on," Elizabeth implored.

Will picked her up and carried her over some swamp water bridged by a rickety tree branch. "Well, Roberts had grown so rich he wanted to retire. So he took me to his cabin and told me his secret. 'I am not the Dread Pirate Roberts,' he said. 'My name is Ryan. I inherited this ship from the previous Dread Pirate Roberts, just as you will inherit from me…'"

* * *

"_What?! He passed it onto the farm boy? He's just throwing away the bloody title."_

* * *

"'His name was Cummerbund….'"

* * *

_Jack snorted with laughter. Anamaria ignored him._

* * *

"'The real Roberts has been retired fifteen years, and living like a king in Patagonia.' Then he explained the name was the important thing for inspiring the necessary fear. You see, no one would surrender to the Dread Pirate Will."

* * *

"_Damn straight!"_

* * *

By now, they had crossed the pond. "So we sailed ashore, took on an entirely new crew and he stayed aboard for awhile as first mate, all the time calling me Roberts. Once the crew believed, he left the ship and I have been Roberts ever since. Except, now that we're together, I shall retire and hand the name over to someone else. Is everything clear to you?"

Elizabeth, perplexed, was about to reply, but the ground she had stepped on gave way -- Lightning Sand. She was gone in a cloud of powder, she shocked cry still lingering.

Will whirled around, hacking at a vine, leaving it connected to the tree. Then he grabbed it, dropped his sword, and dove into the Lightning Sand. Another cloud of powder rose briefly, but the Sand settled quickly.

And for a moment, nothing could be seen.

An odd panting sound was heard, growing louder. A giant R.O.U.S -- a Rodent Of Unusual Size, eighty pounds of bone and power-- approached the sand. It snuffled about a bit, then, as quickly as it appeared, darted off into the shadows of the Swamp.

The Lightning Sands shifted slightly, then Will exploded from the depths, his lungs long past bursting. Elizabeth was across his shoulders. He pulled to the edge of the Sand, using the vine as an anchor.

Elizabeth's face was caked with white powder. Will gently propped her up against a tree and gently brushed the sand from her face. He hesitated, then glanced around. His eyes fell on the R.O.U.S, watching them from a low branch. As he stared the beast down, Elizabeth stirred, falling into his arms. "We'll never succeed -- we may as well die here…"Elizabeth sobbed.

"No. No. We have already succeeded," Will whispered soothingly, stroking her silky locks. He picked her up, wrapping an arm around her reassuringly as they started to walk. He spoke to her reassuringly as they went. "I mean, what are the three terrors of the Fire Swamp? One, the flame spurts. No problem. There's a popping sound preceding each, we can avoid that. Two, the Lightning Sand. But you were clever enough to discover what that looks like, so in the future we can avoid that too."

Elizabeth stopped suddenly and grabbed his arm. "Will, what about the R.O.U.S's?"

"Rodents of Unusual Size? I don't think they exist…" As he said it, a R.O.U.S cam flying at him. Elizabeth screamed.

Will was now pinned under the rodent, trying to fend it off, failing miserably. The thing sank it's teeth deep into his arm, eliciting a yelp. He drove a fist into the beast's face and rolled it off, reaching for his sword. The R.O.U.S leapt back on him, and the struggle continued. It was a fierce battle, and just when Elizabeth thought Will couldn't possibly win, he flipped the ugly rodent clear. He scrambled for his sword while the rodent stampeded on, changing targets, heading straight for Elizabeth.

"Will!" she screamed.

Will abandoned his sword and grabbed the rodent's tail, wrestling with it. Elizabeth grabbed a small branch and beat the skull of the thing, and doing pretty well, until the beast managed to snag her hem and pulled her to the ground.

Will jumped on the rodent's back, drawing its attention back to him. It sank its needle-sharp teeth into his shoulder.

With death close at hand, Will heard an all-too-familiar popping sound. He tried one desperate move, rolling towards the sound. A flame spurt shot skyward, and the rodent, pinned beneath Will, burst into flame. It let go. Will rolled safely free and grabbed his sword, exhaustedly stabbing the R.O.U.S while it tried to put itself out. It collapsed, dead.

Elizabeth let her breath out, relieved now that the danger had passed.

* * *

Will and Elizabeth stepped out from the far edge of the Fire Swamp, into the fading violet light of dusk. A beach laid beyond the border of trees.

"We did it," Elizabeth said, almost in disbelief.

"Now, was that so terrible?" Will asked with a weak smile. Their heads dipped together, but they broke apart at the sound of hoof beats. Will spun around, pushing Elizabeth behind him, drawing his sword.

Between them and their freedom was Prince Norrington.

TBC…

**Reviews are appreciated ;)!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or The Princess Bride. The original idea for this story belongs to DreaBean.**

A/N:

-Most of this is taken from the script at godamongdirectors.

-Sorry if this chapter's a little dry; I just finished a boatload of work and my mind is completely numb.

-No Pirate's character will be substituted for the Albino, as the part is so small and no character seems to fit.

* * *

"Surrender!" Norrington ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Will decided to argue the point anyways. "You mean, you wish to surrender to me? Very well, I accept."

"I give you full marks for bravery -- don't make yourself a fool."

"Ah, but how will you capture us? We know the secrets of the Fire Swamp. We can live there quite happily for some time. So, whenever you feel like dying, feel free to visit."

"I tell you once again -- surrender!"

"It will not happen!"

Elizabeth looked from one to the other until something else caught her eye: an armed warrior in the shadow, a loaded crossbow aimed at Will's heart. She spun her head around the other way, spotting another warrior, his crossbow also aimed at Will.

"For the last time -- SURRENDER!"

Elizabeth frantically stared around, another warrior with his crossbow ready to shoot, hidden by a tree, blocking any escape Will might try.

"DEATH FIRST!"

"Will you promise not to hurt him?" Elizabeth finally burst out.

Norrington looked at her for the first time. "What was that?"

Will responded likewise. "What was that?"

Elizabeth now spoke to both of them. "If we surrender, and I return with you, will you promise not to hurt this man?"

Norrington raised his right hand. "May I live a thousand years and never hunt again."

Elizabeth looked at Will. "He is a sailor on the pirate ship 'Revenge'. Promise to return him to his ship."

"I swear it will be done," Norrington said, then added to Barbossa in an undertone, "Once we're out of sight, take him back to Florin and throw him in the pit of despair."

Barbossa almost smiled. "I swear it will be done."

Elizabeth stared deep into Will's dark brown eyes. "I thought you were dead once, and it almost destroyed me. I could not bear it if you died again, not when I could save you."

Will was dazed. He could not find any reply.

Elizabeth tried to speak again, but could not. She was swept off her feet and onto Norrington's horse, and they trotted off towards the bay.

Will stared after her until the warriors brought him to Barbossa. He eyed the heavy sword held in the count's hand.

"Come, sir. We must get you to your ship," Barbossa said smoothly.

"We are men of action. Lies do not become us."

"Well spoken," the count acknowledged. He nodded slightly and the warriors began to bind Will's hands behind his back. Will accepted it with stoic silence until something caught his attention.

Barbossa noticed his stare. "What is it?"

"You have six fingers on your right hand," Will added, then added off-handedly, "Someone was looking for you…"

Barbossa clubbed Will hard across the skull. Will started to fall, and then the world went black.

* * *

When Will awoke, he was chained in the center of a cage. The surroundings appeared to be underground, windowless, dank, lit by flickering torches. He shuddered reflexively as the chilly air brushed over his bare torso.

A bloodless albino, pale as death, silently entered the pit, carrying a tray of food and medication. He put it down.

"Where am I?" Will muttered.

"The Pit of Despair," the Albino said in a guttural, rasping whisper. He began tending to Will's wounds, dabbing the blood away from his torn shoulder. Will winced. The Albino continued. "Don't even think --" He suddenly broke off, hacking, sputtering, coughing, finally clearing his throat. His voice now sounded normal, in fact, slightly deeper than normal. "-- don't even think about trying to escape. The chains are far too thick. And don't dream of being rescued either. The only way in is secret. And only the Prince, the Count, and I know how to get in and out."

"Then I'm here till I die?"

"Till they kill you, yeah."

"Then why bother curing me?" Will asked, confused, and already dreading the answer.

"The Prince and the Count always insist on everyone being healthy before they're broken."

"So it's to be torture?"

The Albino nodded.

"I can cope with torture," Will said, slightly more to reassure himself.

The Albino shook his head.

"You don't believe me?""You survived the Fire Swamp. You must be very brave --" the Albino paused. "-- But nobody withstands the Machine."

He studied Will, whose face now showed no dread, only sadness.

* * *

Elizabeth wandered down a corridor in Florin Castle, her face sad, pallid, perhaps ill. Count Barbossa and Prince Norrington watched her as she moved past an intersecting corridor.

"She's been like that ever since the Fire Swamp," Norrington commented. "It's my father's failing health that's upsetting her."

"Of course."

* * *

"'_The king died that very night, and before the following dawn, Elizabeth and Norrington were wed.'"_

Florin Square was packed as before. Norrington, Barbossa, and the old Queen stood on the balcony.

"'_At noon, she met her subjects again. This time as their queen.'"_

Norrington began to speak. "My father's final words were --"

"_Hold it!" Jack now sat up. "You read that wrong!"_

"_Did not!"_

"_Did too!""Did not!"_

"_Did too, slander and calumny! She doesn't marry that stuck up prick, she marries Will! AND YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I HATE THAT MALARKY!" Jack's voice was becoming increasingly hoarse from his rant._

"_Will you shut up?"_

"_I'm telling you, you're getting it wrong!"_

"_Do you want me to go on with this?"_

_Jack slumped back. "Yes."_

"_All right then. No more interruptions." She began to read again. "'At noon, she met her subjects again. This time as their Queen.'"_

* * *

"My father's final words were "love her as I loved her, and there will be joy." I present to you your Queen. Queen Elizabeth!"

On his words, Elizabeth emerged from the archway as before, resplendent. Elizabeth was touched, as before, but this time, something different happened.

An ancient woman emerged from the crowd, approaching Elizabeth, booing every step of the way.

"Why do you do this?" Elizabeth asked.

"Because you had love in your hands, and you gave it up!"

"But they would have killed Will if I hadn't done it," the Queen said, distraught.

"Your true love lives and you marry another!" The ancient woman now addressed the crowd. "True love saved her in the Fire Swamp, and she treated it like garbage. And that's what she is, the Queen of Refuse! So, bow down to her if you want. Bow to her. Bow to the Queen of Slime, the Queen of Filth, the Queen of Putrescence. Boo! Boo! Rubbish! Filth! Slime! Muck! Boo! Boo!"

She advanced on Elizabeth, who was becoming more and more panicked. Louder and louder she shrieked at Elizabeth, approaching until she was a breath's length away…

Elizabeth awoke suddenly, flying upright, drenched in sweat. She was alone in her castle bedroom. She frantically grabbed a robe and started to run.

* * *

"'_It was ten days till the wedding. The King still lived but Elizabeth's nightmares were growing steadily worse.'"_

"_See? What did I tell you?"_

_Anamaria sighed. "Yes, yes. You're very smart. Shut up."_

* * *

Elizabeth burst into the Prince's chambers. Count Barbossa stood nearby.

"It comes to this: I love Will. I always have. I know now I always will. If you tell me I must marry you in ten days, please believe I will be dead by morning," she declared fiercely.

Norrington was stunned. Finally, he began talk. "I could never cause you grief; consider our wedding off. You returned this Will to his ship?" he asked Barbossa.

"Yes.""Then we will simply alert him. Beloved, are you certain he still loves you?" he asked Elizabeth. "After all, it was you who did the leaving in the Fire Swamp. Not to mention that pirates are not known to be men of their words."

Elizabeth held her chin high. "My Will shall always come for me."

"I suggest a deal," Norrington said. "You write four copies of a letter. I'll send my four fastest ships. One in each direction. The Dread Pirate Roberts is always close to Florin this time of year. We'll run up the white flag and deliver your message. If Will wants you, bless you both. If not…" he stepped towards the Princess. "…Please consider me as an alternative to suicide. Are we agreed?"

Elizabeth hesitantly nodded.

* * *

Norrington and Barbossa walked into a grove of trees, all unusual in one respect: all were heavily knotted.

"Your Princess is really a winning creature. A trifle simple, perhaps, but her appeal is undeniable," Barbossa commented.

"Oh, I know. The people are quite taken with her." Norrington frowned. "It's odd, but when I hired Vizzini to have her murdered on our engagement day, I thought that was clever. But it's going to be so much more moving when I strangle her on our wedding night. Once Guilder is blamed, the nation will be truly outraged. They'll demand we go to war."

They were now deeper into the grove. Barbossa searched for something. "Now, where it that secret knot?" he muttered. "It's impossible to find." Upon finding the knot on the tree, he hit it. It opened, revealing a staircase leading underground. "Are you coming down into the pit? Will's got his strength back. I am starting him on The Machine tonight."

"Hector, you know how much I love watching you work. But, I've got my country's five hundredth anniversary to plan, my wedding to arrange, MY wife to murder, and Guilder to frame for it." He shrugged as though helpless. "I'm booked."

"Get some rest -- if you haven't got your health, you haven't got anything." He smiled in a sinister sort of way and hurried down the stairs as the tree slid perfectly back into place.

* * *

The Albino dragged Will up alongside some enormous thing, composed of levers, wheels, wires, and every other contraption one could think of.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Barbossa asked. Will had the strange impulse to laugh. The Albino began attaching suction cups to the captive. "It took me half a lifetime to invent," Barbossa continued. "I'm sure you've discovered my deep and abiding interest in pain. At the present, I'm writing the definitive work on the subject. So I want you to be totally honest with me on how The Machine makes you feel."

He then went over to a dial marked with the numbers from one to fifty. "This being our first try, I'll use the lowest setting."

And he turned the dial to one.

The floodgate opened, water pouring down the chute, turning the wheel, which in turn powered the machine. Will jerked involuntarily against his chains in agony. Above the noise of The Machine, a terrible noise could be heard: an incessant gasping from Will's throat.

Barbossa finally switched the machine off, and Will's struggles slowly subsided. The Count picked up a large notebook and pen, and sat in a chair behind a desk. He opened the book to a blank page, and waited until The Machine's noise subsided.

"As you know, the concept of the suction pump is centuries old. Well, that's all this is," he explained. "Except that instead of sucking water, I'm sucking life. I've just sucked one year of your life away. I might one day go up as high as five, but I really don't know what that would do to you. So, let's just start with what we have. What did this do to you?" he asked calmly, as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. "Tell me. And remember, this is for posterity, so be honest -- how do you feel?"

Will was now in an anguish so deep it was dizzying. Helpless, he cried.

Barbossa watched the tears with fascination. "Interesting."

TBC….

**Ok, I know this probably isn't up to snuff, but, like I said, by brain was numb. Please review!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or The Princess Bride. The original idea for this story belongs to DreaBean.**

A/N:

-Most of this is taken from the script at godamongdirectors.

-Sorry for my lateness, but I was ill for a few weeks, and fell behind in work. So, I had to play catch up for a while and didn't have much time for anything else.

-So, this is almost finished; there are maybe three or four chapters left. After that, I will be continuing with Fallen Angel, and a new, very angsty Pirates of the Caribbean fic. There will probably be a preview somewhere in the next few chapter.

-Yellin will be played by Gillette.

-I'm not quite as adept at rhyming as Fezzik (known as Gibbs), so my rhyme sucks. If anyone absolutely hates it and has something better, I'd like to hear it!

Norrington was in his quarters, swamped. Papers were strewn all over. Gillette, a pale, shifty, quick-eyed man appeared in the doorway.

"Gillette," the Prince acknowledged.

Gillette bowed, then knelt. "Sire."

"As Chief Enforcer of all Florin, I trust you with this secret: killers from Guilder are infiltrating the Thieves' Forest and plan to murder my bride on our wedding night."

Gillette narrowed his eyes. "My spy network has heard no such news."

Elizabeth now entered the chamber. Both men rose quickly. "Any word from Will?" she asked.

"Too soon, my angel. Patience!" Norrington exclaimed.

"He will come for me," Elizabeth said confidently.

"Of course," Norrington replied, placating his doomed fiancé.

As soon as she had glided out, Norrington plunked back down into the straight-backed chair, and Gillette again fell to his knees. "She will not be murdered," Norrington continued. "On the day of the wedding, I want the Thieves' Forest emptied and every inhabitant arrested."

"Many of the thieves will resist. My regular forces will be inadequate."

"Form a brute squad, then!" Norrington ordered. "I want the Thieves' Forest emptied before I wed."

"It won't be easy, Sire."

The Prince heaved an overly-dramatic sigh. "Try ruling the world sometime."

"_The day of the wedding arrived. The Brute Squad had their hands full carrying out Norrington's orders."_

Gillette stood on a wagon in the midst of all the shouting and confusion. "Is everybody out?" he asked an unpleasant looking assistant.

"Almost," the brute growled. "There's a Spaniard giving us some trouble."

"Well, you give him some trouble. Move!"

The wagon stared off.

Jack, drunk off his ass, was sprawled in front of a hovel, a bottle of rum in one hand, the six-handed sword in the other. His looked terrible, unshaven, puffy-eyed, gaunt. But the way he brandished the sword in front of him was enough to give anyone caused for worry.

"I am waiting for you, Beckett!" he slurred. "You told me to go back to the beginning. So I have. This is where I am, and this is where I'll stay. I will not be moved."

He took a long pull from the rum bottle, stopping only when the assistant brute came into his sight.

"Ho there!" the brute said.

"I do not budge. Keep your 'Ho there'." Jack brandished the sword dangerously.

"But the Prince gave orders--"

"So did Beckett…when a job went wrong, you went back to the beginning. And this is where we got the job. So it's the beginning, and I'm staying till Beckett comes."

The brute gestured to someone out of Jack's sight. "You, Brute! Come here!"

"--I--am--waiting--for--Beckett--" Jack said, separating each word as much as possible.

"Surely you mean it," a familiar voice said from behind Jack.

Jack felt an enormous hand on his back. He raised his own shaky one, comparing.

"Hello," Gibbs said.

Jack smiled drunkenly. "It's you!"

"True!"

The assistant Brute moved forward to club Jack's brains out, but was stopped with a stupendous punch, courtesy of Gibbs. There was a pause as the Brute flew through the air, then a crunching sound was heard as the Brute clearly came into contact with something hard and immobile.

Gibbs studied Jack. "You don't look so good," he said with concern, then adding as Jack let out a 'pfft' of protest, "You don't smell so good either."

"Perhaps not. I feel fine," Jack declared.

"Yeah?" Gibbs put Jack down. The former swordsman fell forward in a dead faint.

Gibbs spooned a slumped-over Jack (who had amazingly regained consciousness) some stew in an empty alehouse.

"_Gibbs and Jack were reunited. And as Gibbs nursed his inebriated friend back to health, he told Jack of Beckett's death and the existence of Count Barbossa, the six-fingered man. Considering Jack's lifelong search, he handled the news surprisingly well."_

Jack, apparently having just been told of Barbossa, fainted yet again, landing face down in the stew.

"_Gibbs took great care in reviving Jack."_

Without a word, Gibbs stuffed Jack's head into a tub of freezing water, then, after a reasonable amount of time, pulled him out and dunked him into a tub of steaming water. A short time after that, put him back in the cold water, then back in the hot, until Jack jerked away.

"That's enough. That's enough!" Jack said firmly. "Where is this Barbossa so I may kill him?"

"He's with the Prince in the castle. But the castle gate is guarded by thirty men," Gibbs informed Jack.

"How many could you handle?"

Gibbs shrugged. "I don't think more than ten."

Jack did the math on his fingers. "That leaves twenty for me." He shook his head. "At my best, I could never defeat that many." Jack sank to the ground sadly. "I need Beckett to plan."

"'_Tis a sad day indeed when a man needs someone else to plan his revenge for him," Captain Sparrow muttered._

"I have no gift for strategy."

"But Beckett's dead," Gibbs pointed out helpfully.

Jack was silent for another moment before a wild look hit him. "No -- Not Beckett -- I need the Man in Black."

"_Who, lovesick farm boy?"_

"What?"

Jack scrambled to his feet, excitement growing. "Look, he bested you with strength, your greatness. He bested me with steel. He must have out-thought Beckett, and a man who can do that can plan my castle's onslaught any day. Let's go --"

"Where?" Gibbs asked.

"To find the Man in Black, obviously!"

"But you don't know where he is."

Jack was seemingly possessed by demons now. "Don't bother me with trifles; after twenty years, at last, my father's soul will be at peace. There will be blood tonight!"

Gillette entered the Prince' chambers which were once again strewn with maps and other documents. He knelt.

Norrington didn't even look up from sharpening his dagger. "Rise and report."

"The Thieves' Forest is emptied. Thirty men guard the castle gate."

"Double it! My Princess must be safe," Norrington declared.

"The gate has but one key, and I carry that." Gillette produced a key dangling from a chain around his neck. Just at that moment, Elizabeth entered.

Norrington rose and took her hands. "Ah, my dulcet darling! Tonight we marry. Tomorrow morning, my men will escort us to Florin Channel where every ship in my armada waits to accompany us on our honeymoon."

"Every ship but your four fastest, you mean," Elizabeth corrected. Norrington looked at her blankly for a moment. "Every ship but the four you sent.""Yes," Norrington said, regrouping. "Yes, of course. Naturally, not those four."

Gillette, sensing trouble, bowed. "Your majesties," he said, then hurriedly exited.

Elizabeth stared at the Prince. "You never sent the ships. Don't bother lying." She wrenched her hands away. "It doesn't matter. Will shall come for me anyway."

"You're a silly girl," Norrington said sharply.

"Yes, I am a silly girl, for having not seen sooner that you were nothing but a coward with a heart full of fear."

Norrington slammed his hand down on the table. "I would not say such things if I were you," he said, enunciating each word clearly.

"Why not?" Elizabeth demanded. "You can't hurt me. Will and I are joined by the bonds of love. And you cannot track that. Not with a thousand bloodhounds. And you cannot break it, not with a thousand swords." Her voice hardened. "And when I say you are a coward, that is only because you are the slimiest weakling ever to crawl the earth!"

"IWOULDNOTSAYSUCHTHINGSIFIWEREYOU," Norrington repeated, his words now indistinct. He roughly grabbed her arm, starting to pull her, now out of control. He threw open the door to Elizabeth's room, pushed her in, then slammed it shut, and locked it. He broke into a wild run, stopping only when he reached the Pit of Despair. Will was still on The Machine, though it was not on. The Albino lurked somewhere in the shadows while Barbossa added more notes to his book. The Prince flew up alongside The Machine, raging.

"You truly love each other," he spat out at Will. "And so you might have been truly happy. Not one couple in a century has that chance, no matter what the storybooks say. And so I think no man in a century will suffer as greatly as you will." With that, he turned on the machine, grabbed the lever…

"Not to fifty!" the Count yelled.

But it was too late; Norrington shoved the lever all the way up. Will's voice contorted with agony, a terrible sound now escaping, even worse than the last time…the Death Scream.

It reached Gillette and his sixty brutes. They managed to bear it, but a few of the brute turned to each other in fear. The scream continued to build.

The sound reached Elizabeth in her room. Though she didn't know what it was, her arms involuntarily wrapped around her body to try to control the trembling.

The scream still built until it reached the crowd across the river. The bustling immediately stopped as the sound hit them. A few children paled and bolted towards their parents.

And it continued…

Jack and Gibbs were trying to make their way through the jammed marketplace, which suddenly quieted as the fading sound came through.

Jack didn't hesitate. "Gibbs! Gibbs, listen, do you hear? That is the sound of ultimate suffering. My heart made that sound when Barbossa slaughtered my father. The Man in Black makes it now."

"The Man in Black?" Gibbs inquired in surprise.

"His true love is marrying another tonight, so who else has the cause for ultimate suffering?" Jack tried to push through the crowd. "Excuse me, pardon me…it's important--" No one budged and the sound faded even more. "Gibbs, please--"

"Everybody…MOVE!!" Gibbs bellowed.

The crowd immediately parted. Gibbs and Jack started to track the faint sound.

"Thank you," Jack muttered.

The Albino pushed a wheel barrow through the grove of trees near the pit of despair. Jack's sword, appearing from nowhere, pushed against his chest. "Where is the Man in Black?" Jack demanded.

The Albino shook his head, saying nothing.

Jack pushed on. "You get there from this grove, yes?" Silence. The swordsman sighed. "Gibbs, jog his memory."

Gibbs crunched the Albino on the top of his head as though trying to drive a nail. The Albino dropped without a sound.

"I'm sorry, Jack," Gibbs said, upset. "I didn't mean to jog him so hard." There was a pause. "Jack?"

The man in question had knelt, the sword held tight between his hands. Eyes closed, he faced the grove of trees and began to talk, his voice low and strange:

"Father, I have failed you for twenty years. Now our misery can end. Somewhere…somewhere close by is a man who can help up. I cannot find him alone. I need you. I need you to guide my sword. Please."

"_Give me a break…"_

Jack rose, his eyes still closed. "Guide my sword," he repeated. His eyes shut tight, he walked forward, toward the grove of trees. Gibbs followed close behind, frightened by his friend's trance-like state.

Jack walked blind through the grove of trees. He moved to the secret knot, hesitated, then moved past it. Then he stopped suddenly, standing frozen for a long moment. Suddenly he whirled about, eyes still closed, and the sword hit home, dead center into a knot, and…

Nothing.

In utter despair, Jack collapsed against a knot in the tree; against THE knot. It slid away, revealing the staircase. Gibbs and Jack looked at each other, then started down.

Will lied perfectly still by The Machine. Gibbs leant over him, listening for a heartbeat. Then he looked at Jack and shook his head.

"He's dead," he announced sadly.

Jack was plunged into despair. For a moment, his body sagged. He was barely able to speak, but he finally forced out five words:

"It just is not fair."

TBC…

**If you like, review. If you don't like, review…though I probably won't respond!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or The Princess Bride. The original idea for this story belongs to DreaBean.**

A/N:

-Most of this is taken from the script at godamongdirectors.

-Miracle Max will remain Miracle Max. Valerie will be Tia Dalma.

* * *

"_Wait, wait, wait, wait…what the hell is that supposed to mean? He's dead?"_

_Anamaria rolled her eyes. "That's typically what the phrase 'He's dead' means."_

"_But no one stays dead! I came back, Will came back…hell, even Barbossa came back and we all know he deserved to kick the bucket! So what the hell does Gibbs mean 'He's dead'?!"_

_Anamaria brandished the book. "You want me to read this or not?"_

"_Who offs Norrington?"_

"_Scuse me?"_

"_You know what I meant! Who offs, annihilates, dispatches, does in, eradicates, exterminates, extirpates, liquidates, neutralizes, obliterates, polishes off, or, in other words, KILLS that cowardly, pestilent, traitorous, yeasty codpiece what calls himself Prince!"_

"_A little overdone, don't you think? And, as an aside, Norrington lives."_

_Jack flew upright. "You mean he WINS?!"_

"_Living doesn't mean winning! And if you're going to continue like this, maybe I should stop reading!"_

"_Ey!"_

_Anamaria grinned. She had him now… "Should I finish reading this?"_

_Jack muttered something indiscernible._

"_Speak up."_

"_Yes," Jack grumbled._

"_Good. Now shut up and let me finish. So…in The Pit of Despair, then."_

For a moment, Jack just sagged in despair and disappointment. Then, he forced himself to straighten. "Well, we Sparrows have never taken defeat easily. Come along, Gibbs. Bring the body."

Gibbs blinked slowly. "The body?"

Jack didn't stop. "Do you have any money?"

"I have a little."

"I just hope it's enough to buy a miracle, that's all," Jack said cryptically.

Gibbs shrugged, and lifted the limp body over his shoulder as easily as though it was a sack of flour, and followed Jack up the stairs.

It was dusk as Jack rapped on the door of a hovel. From inside, a man's voice was heard:

"Go away!"

Jack pounded again. This time, a small window in the door opened and an ancient little man, his white hair sticking out in tufts, peered out. "What? What?"

"Are you the Miracle Max who worked for the King all those years?" Jack asked hurriedly.

Miracle Max scowled. "The King's stinking son fired me. And thank you so much for bringing up such a painful subject. While you're at it, why don't you give me a nice paper cut and pour lemon juice on it? We're closed!" He slammed the window shut.

Jack rapped on the door yet again. The window slid open again. "Beat it, or I'll call the brute squad!"

Gibbs spoke up. "I'm on the Brute Squad."

Max took in the giant. "You are the Brute Squad."

"We need a miracle. It's very important," Jack interjected.

"Look, I'm retired," Max emphasized. "And besides, why would you want someone the King's stinking son fired? I might kill whoever you want me to miracle!"

Jack gestured to Will's still body. "He's already dead."

Max perked up. "He is, huh?" he asked, interested. "I'll take a look. Bring him in." He finally unlocked the door and let him in.

Jack and Gibbs hurried inside. Gibbs laid Will, who was starting to stiffen up a little, down across a wooden bench by the fireplace. Max picked up Will's arm and let it drop limply. "I've seen worse," he commented. He studied Will a moment, checking here, checking there.

Jack decided to interrupt. "Sir. Sir."

Miracle Max didn't look up. "Huh?"

"We're in a terrible rush."Wrong thing to say. Miracle Max took nothing from nobody. "Don't rush me, sonny. You rush a miracle man, you get rotten miracles. You got money?"

"Sixty-five," Jack replied, having already calculated their funds.

"Sheesh! I never worked for so little, except once, and that was a very noble cause."

"This is noble, sir." He pointed to Will. "His wife is crippled. His children are on the brink of starvation."

Max didn't bat an eye. "Are you a rotten liar."

Jack leaned forward. "I need him to help avenge my father, murdered these twenty years."

Max considered this. "Your first story was better." He looked around. "Where's that bellows?" He spotted it. "He probably owes you money, huh? Well, I'll ask him." The miracle man went to get a huge bellows.

Jack was stupefied. "He's dead. He can't talk."

"Oh, look who knows so much? Well, it just so happens that your friend here is only _mostly_ dead. There's a big difference between mostly dead and all dead. Please open his mouth." Jack complied.

Max inserted the bellows into Will's mouth and started to pump. "Now, mostly dead is slightly alive. Now, all dead…well, with all dead, there's usually only one thing that you can do."

"What's that?" Jack asked.

Max stopped pumping. "Go through his clothes and look for loose change." He bent down to Will. "Hey! Hello in there! Hey! What's so important? What you got here that's worth living for?" He pressed down lightly on Will's chest.

"True…….Love……" It was guttural, hard to make out, but it was there.

Everyone stared at Will lying on the bench. Jack snapped out of his stupor. "True love. You heard him! You could not ask for a more noble cause than that."

"Sonny, true love is the greatest thing in the world. Except for a nice MLT, a mutton, lettuce and tomato sandwich, where the mutton is nice and lean and the tomato is ripe. There so perky; I love that. But no!" Max returned to the topic at hand. "That's not what he said. He distinctly said 'to blave'. And, as we all know, 'to blave' means 'to bluff'. So you're probably playing cards and he cheated…"

"Liar! LIAR! LI-A-A-AR!" Tia, and ancient fury, stormed out of the back room towards Max.

"Get back, witch!" he snapped.

Tia drew herself up to her full height. "I'm not a witch, I'm your wife! But after what you just said, I'm not even sure I want to be that anymore!"

"You never had it so good!"

"'True love.' He said 'true love,' Max! My God…"

Max retreated. "Don't say another word, Tia!"

Tia turned to Jack and Gibbs. "He's afraid. Ever since Prince Norrington fired him, his confidence is shattered!"

"Why'd you say that name? You promised me you'd never say that name!" Max shouted from the other side of the room.

Tia pursued him now. "What, Norrington?"

"Ah!"

She wouldn't be shaken off so easily. "Norrington. Norrington. Ooo-ooo, Norrington…"

Max held his hands over his ears. "I'm not listening!"

"A life expiring and you don't even have the decency to say why you won't help…"

"Nobody's hearing nothing…"

"Norrington! Norrington! Norrington!"

Jack jumped into the childish argument. "But this is Elizabeth's true love -- If you heal him, he will stop Norrington's wedding!"

Tia gave no sign that she had heard. "Norrington. Norrington --"

"Shut up --" Max turned to Jack. "Wait. Wait. I make him better, Norrington suffers?"

"Humiliations galore…"

Max laughed. "Now THAT is a noble cause! Give me the sixty-five, I'm on the job!"

Tia shrieked excitedly.

After hours of work, the result of Max and Tia's labor rested on the table:

A lump, slightly smaller than a tennis ball.

Max and Tia, exhausted, stared at the lump with pleasure and reverence. Tia, a cooking utensil in hand, coated the thing with what looked like chocolate. Jack and Gibbs stared at the lump too, but more dubiously.

Jack was, in fact, a little appalled. "That's a miracle pill?"

Max nodded. "Chocolate coating makes it go down easier," Tia added. "But you have to wait fifteen minutes for full potency. And he shouldn't go swimming after, for at least, what?"

"An hour," Max supplied.

"Yeah, an hour."

"A good hour. Yeah."

Jack accepted the pill as Gibbs took Will, who was now as stiff as a board. The two headed out the door, Will once again over Gibbs' shoulder. "Thank you for everything," Jack said.

"Okay," Max said.

"Bye-bye, boys!" Tia said, much more enthusiastically, waving after them.

"Have fun storming the castle!" Max added.

"Think it'll work?" Tia muttered to Max.

"It'd take a miracle. Bye!"

The trio was now on the top of the outer wall of the castle, looking down to the front gate. The sixty brutes were visible.

Gibbs was thunderstruck by the number of men. Upset, he turned to Jack, who was trying unsuccessfully to prop Will against the wall. "Jack -- there's more than thirty --"

Jack was unfazed. "What's the difference? We've got him." He pointed to the half-dead Will. "Help me here. We'll have to force-feed him."

"Has it been fifteen minutes?"

"We can't wait. The wedding's in half an hour and we must strike in the hustle and the bustle beforehand."

Gibbs, using all his strength, had managed to get Will into a right angled sitting position. Jack brought out the miracle pill. "Tilt his head back. Open his mouth."

Gibbs followed the orders. "How long do we have to wait before we know it the miracle works?"

Jack dropped the pill into Will's mouth. "Your guess is as good as mine."

Will's eyes snapped open. "I'll beat you both apart. I'll take you both together."

Gibbs slapped his hand over the young man's mouth. "Guess not very long."

Will, stunned, could only say the first thing that came to his mind once the giant hand was removed. "Why won't my arms move?"

"You've been mostly dead all day," Gibbs explained helpfully.

Jack jumped in. "We had Miracle Max make a pill to bring you back."

Will blinked, recognizing the pair before him. "Who are you? Are we enemies? Why am I on this wall? Where's Elizabeth?"

"Let me explain," Jack began, but stopped briefly as he reconsidered. "No, there is too much. Let me sum up. Elizabeth is marrying Norrington in a little less than half an hour, so all we have to do is get in, break up the wedding, steal the Princess, make our escape after I kill Count Barbossa."

"That doesn't leave much time for dilly-dallying," Will said, more to himself than anything. He watched his fingers, one of which twitched slightly.

"You've just wiggled your finger. That's wonderful!" Gibbs exclaimed.

"I've always been a quick healer," Will deadpanned. "What are our liabilities?"

"There is but one working castle gate," Jack said as he and Gibbs raised Will high enough so he could see for himself. "And it is guarded by sixty men."

"And out assets?"

"Your brains, Gibbs' strength, my steel."

Will was stunned. "That's it? Impossible. If I had a month to plan, maybe I could come up with something. But this?" He shook his head from side to side.

"You just shook your head -- doesn't that make you happy?" Gibbs asked, trying to be cheery.

Will flopped his head to the side so he could look at the giant. "My brains, his steel, and your strength, and you think a little head jiggle is supposed to make me happy, hmm? I mean, is we only had a wheelbarrow, that would be something!"

Jack turned to Gibbs. "Where did we put that wheelbarrow the Albino had?"

"Over the Albino, I think," Gibbs answered.

"Well, why didn't you list that among our assets in the first place?" Will asked, irritated. He sighed. "What I wouldn't give for a holocaust cloak…"

"There we cannot help you."

Gibbs, however, produced one from his clothing. "Will this do?"

"Where'd you get that?" Jack queried, surprised.

"At Miracle Max's. It fit so nice, he said I could keep it."

"All right, all right." Will was not in the mood for long-winded explanations. "Come on, help me up."

Jack and Gibbs each gripped one of Will's arms and pulled him to his feet.

"Now, I'll need a sword, eventually," Will said off-handedly. His head fell forward. Gibbs immediately righted it.

"Why?" Jack reasoned. "You can't even lift one."

"True, but that's hardly common knowledge, is it?" His head fell limply back. Gibbs set it right for him again. This time, he didn't remove his hand.

"Thank you," Will said. "Now, there may be problems once we're inside."

"I'll say," Jack said. "How do I find the Count? Once I do, how do I find you again? Once I find you again, how do we escape?"

"Hey," Gibbs said sharply. "Don't pester him. He's had a hard day."

"Right, right, sorry."

Gibbs nodded Will's head for him.

The three of them moved along the wall in silence for a time. Then, Gibbs' could be heard on the wind. "Jack?"

"What?"

"I hope we win…"

TBC…

**There…two chapters in one day. I've worked hard for you, and I might be inspired to post the final chapter if I get enough reviews ;)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or The Princess Bride. The original idea for this story belongs to DreaBean.**

A/N:

-Most of this is taken from the script at godamongdirectors.

-Hey, last chapter! Thanks to the few people who actually reviewed. Oh, and if you just joined, please review anyways.

Elizabeth was seated in front of a shining, silver mirror, resplendent in her bridal gown. But it was her demeanor that was the most incredible aspect of her appearance: every trace of sadness or panic was gone, replaced by an unfailing tranquility.

The Prince stood behind her, fastening a pearl necklace behind her neck. "You don't seem excited, my little muffin."

"Should I be?"

"Brides often are, I'm told."

"I do not marry tonight," Elizabeth said, both gently and confidently. She couldn't be more serene. "My Will shall save me."

Norrington smiled sinisterly as she left the room.

Elizabeth's Will, as it so happened, was still slumped over a castle wall with Jack and Gibbs, this time overlooking the castle gate, guarded by Gillette and his sixty brutes. This was it.

Jack and Gibbs shook hands, then waited. Will couldn't even muster the strength to raise his arm, but after a bit of rocking back and forth, he managed to gain enough momentum to catapult his hand on top of his allies'.

The siege had begun.

The wedding was to take place in a gem-like chapel. Elizabeth and Norrington knelt before the most intelligent looking, most impressive appearing clergyman imaginable. The old King and Queen sat behind them. Barbossa lurked near the back, and four guards flanked the door.

The clergyman motioned for the Prince and Princess to rise. He then cleared his throat, and began to speak:

"Mawidge…mawidge is what bwings us togewer today…Mawidge, the bwessed awwanement, that dweam wiffin a dweam…"

From outside the castle, a commotion began to rise. Gillette could be heard yelling, "Stand your ground men, stand your ground!"

It was indeed the Brutes that were raising the commotion.

"Stand your ground!" Gillette ordered.

In their fright, they paid him no mind. The sixty men were now pointing at something, something very unnerving indeed.

A giant in a strange cloak seemed to be floating towards them out of the darkness, speaking all the while with a voice that could crumble walls:

"I AM THE DREAD PIRATE ROBERTS! THERE WILL BE NO SURIVORS!"

Unknown to the Brutes, the giant was one of their former colleagues: Gibbs, who only appeared to be floating because he was standing in the Albino's wheelbarrow. Jack was hidden behind him, busting a gut pushing it while supporting Will. "Now?" Jack grunted.

"Not yet," was the reply.

Gibbs continued with his lines. "MY MEN ARE HERE, AND I AM HERE, BUT SOON YOU --" Here, he raised a giant finger. "--WILL NOT BE HERE!"

With this announcement, the panic increased. Gillette continued to shout orders and instructions, trying to keep the Brutes in position.

Jack continued to struggle bravely under Gibbs' and Will's combined weight, but he could feel his kneecaps begin to give out. "Now?" he gasped.

"Light him."

Jack touched a lit candle to the cloak, and the giant burst happily into flames.

"THE DREAD PIRATE ROBERTS TAKES NO SURVIVORS! ALL YOUR WORST NIGHTMARES ARE ABOUT TO COME TRUE!"

The clergyman continued to plow on. "Ven wuv, twoo wuv, wiw fowwow you fowever…"

Norrington turned quickly, and gave a sharp nod to Count Barbossa, who immediately left the chapel with the four guards

* * *

Gibbs continued to burn, flaming and scary as all hell. "THE DREAD PIRATE ROBERTS IS HERE FOR YOUR SOULS!"

The Brutes could only scream and run off in a wild panic, which Gillette feebly tried to keep order. "Stay where you are! I said, STAY WHERE YOU ARE!"

"So tweasuwe your wuv…"

"Skip to the end," Norrington said tersely.

"Have you the wing?"

The screams seemed to increase as Norrington whipped out the ring.

"Here comes my Will now," Elizabeth said.

* * *

"Gibbs, the portcullis!" Will warned.

Gibbs pulled off the holocaust cloak as he rushed forward to grab the quickly closing portcullis. He easily swung the tonnage back upwards.

Gillette could only watch in fear.

Norrington shoved the ring on Elizabeth's delicate finger. "Your Will is dead."

Elizabeth only smiled and shook her head.

"I killed him myself," Norrington said, furthering his point.

"Then why is there fear behind your eyes?" Elizabeth couldn't have been more serene.

Gillette was pressed against the main gate. The trio closed in.

"Give us the gate key," Will demanded.

"I have no gate key," Gillette said with every ounce of false honesty he possessed.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Gibbs, tear his arms off."

Gillette's bravado faded, and he immediately produced the gate key. "Oh, you mean this gate key?"

"And do you, Pwincess Ewizabef…"

"Man and wife! Say man and wife!" the Prince snapped.

The clergyman, clueless, complied. "Man and wife."

Norrington whirled to the King and Queen. "Escort the bride to the Honeymoon Suite. I'll be there shortly." With that, he dashed off.

Elizabeth merely stood there, dazed. "He didn't come," she whispered, her lips barely moving.

Barbossa raced through the castle halls with the four guards. He stopped at an intersection, an incredulous look on his face.

For moving towards him were the trio. To be more honest, Jack was leading, Gibbs was dragging Will, who was, in turn was dragging Gillette's discarded sword like a stiff dog leash. He simply did not have the strength to lift it.

"Kill the dark one and the giant, but leave the third for questioning," the Count ordered slowly.

The warriors attacked, and Jack went wild. The six fingered sword flashed faster than it ever had before, and, within moments, the fourth warrior was dead before the first even reached the ground. There was a pause as the Spaniard finally faced his adversary. Then:

"Hello. My name is Jack Sparrow. You killed my father. Prepare to die."

For a while, the Count just stood there, sword in hand. Then he did a most unexpected thing: he tuned away and ran.

Jack was momentarily surprised, and then he took off after Barbossa, leaving Gibbs and Will to exchange curious glances.

Barbossa ran through a half-open heavy wooden door, shutting it and locking it as he went. Jack arrived a few moments too late and threw himself against the door, but it was to no avail. He tried again. The door didn't even budge. "Gibbs, I need you!"

Gibbs looked down at Will, who was still unable to walk under his own power. "I can't leave him alone!" the giant called back.

Jack continued to pound desperately on the portal. "He's getting away from me, Gibbs!" he hollered, almost hysterical. "Gibbs, please!"

"I'll be right back," Gibbs said, resigned, to Will. He awkwardly propped Will's limp body against a suit of armor, then took off toward the direction of Jack's voice.

Jack was still hammering on the door when Gibbs arrived. The giant gestured for him to stop, then easily pounded the door in.

"Thank-you," Jack said as he dashed through.

"Strange wedding," the King croaked out as he and his wife escorted Elizabeth through the halls of the castle.

The Queen, being slightly more sprightly, was several paces ahead of her husband. "Yes. A very strange wedding. Come along," she added to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth, however, gently stopped the King and placed a kiss on his forehead. He was both very surprised and pleased. "What was that for?"

"Because you've always been so kind to me. And I won't be seeing you again since I'm killing myself once we reach the honeymoon suite," Elizabeth explained sadly.

The King continued to smile. "Won't that be nice?" His hearing wasn't what it once was.

"She kissed me!"

At the intersection by the suit of armor, Gibbs stood gaping dumbly, trying to piece together the mystery of the missing Will.

Barbossa continued to dash through the corridors. Every time he glanced back, he caught sight of Jack behind him, coming like a flash.

The Count picked up his pace as he sprinted down a staircase. He pulled out a dagger, a deadly piece of work with a sharp blade and a triangular blade. He sprinted on as Jack continued to close the gap, drawing closer, closer, until he was down the stairs and into a dining hall…

Barbossa threw the dagger.

"_NOOOOO!!!!!" Jack howled._

"_My God, Sparrow. It's just a book."_

"_But - but - he cheated!"_

"_YOU do that all the time!"_

"_Only pirates are allowed to break the rules, and he's NOT A BLOODY PIRATE!"_

The dagger sunk deep into Jack's stomach. He hurtled back helplessly against the wall of the room, pushed on the force of the dagger. His eyes glazed over as blood began to pour from the wound. The room began to go white. "…Sorry, father…I tried…I tried…" he gasped feebly.

Barbossa stared at Jack from across the room, touching the sides of his face as a memory came to him. "You must be that little Spanish brat I taught a lesson to all those years ago. It's simply incredible. Have you been chasing me your whole life only to fail now? I think that's the worst thing I ever heard." He smiled with sickening enjoyment. "How marvelous."

Jack sank further down the wall.

Elizabeth shut the door of the honeymoon suite. She crossed quietly to the far wall to sit at a table. She opened a jeweled box, taking out a deadly-looking dagger. She was very much at peace as she touched it to her bosom, preparing to fall on the blade.

"There's a shortage of perfect breasts in this world. It would be a pity to damage yours."

Elizabeth whirled at the sound of the very familiar, much loved voice to see her beloved Will, lying on the bed, Gillette's sword beside him. His voice sounded fine, but he did not move.

Elizabeth ignored this as she leapt to the bed, covering him with kisses. "Oh, Will, darling!" She kissed his nose. "Will, why won't you hold me?"

"Gently," he said softly.

Elizabeth could have laughed. "At a time like this, that's all you can thing to say? 'Gently'?" She pulled his head to meet hers, pressing their lips together.

"Gently!!" Will managed to get out. Elizabeth let go, letting his head thump against the headboard.

Count Barbossa was looking very much surprised. "Good heavens. Are you still trying to win?"

Jack was struggling feebly, pulling the dagger from his stomach. He held the wound with his left hand.

Barbossa moved in to kill Jack. "You've got an overdeveloped sense of vengeance," he admonished. "It's going to get you into trouble some day."

He flicked the sword at Jack's heart. Jack merely parried the thrust and watched as the Count's sword sank into his left shoulder. He didn't seem to feel it; his other agonies were much worse.

Barbossa stepped back and took aim for Jack's heart again. The Spaniard, now using the wall for support, parried the blow again, this time into his right shoulder. Again, he didn't seem to mind.

The Count stepped back a second time, watching with poorly disguised surprise as Jack continued to inch his way to his feet. Before he could strike again, Jack managed to flick the six-fingered sword, making the Count jump back.

"Hello," he rasped, his voice barely audible. "My name is Jack Sparrow. You killed my father. Prepare to die."

Barbossa jumped into a fierce attack, striking with great power and precision, forcing Jack back, but he did not penetrate Jack's defense.

Jack pushed off the wall again. "Hello," he said, a little louder. "My name is Jack Sparrow. You killed my father. Prepare to die."

Barbossa attacked again. None of his blows got through, and Jack slowly moved forward again. "Hello. My name is Jack Sparrow. You killed my father. Prepare to die."

"Stop saying that!" Barbossa shouted, panicked. He retreated around the table.

Jack drove for Barbossa's left shoulder, stabbing home exactly where the Count had wounded him. He moved again, and the blade entered the villain's right shoulder.

"HELLO!" Jack roared. "MY NAME IS JACK SPARROW. YOU KILLED MY FATHER. PREPARE TO DIE."

"No --"

"Offer me money," Jack hissed, his sword slashing across one of Barbossa's cheeks.

"Yes --"

"Power, too -- promise me that." The sword flashed again, and another slash bled.

"All that I have and more --"

"Offer me everything I ask for --"

"Anything you want --"

"I WANT MY FATHER BACK, YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Jack bellowed. The sword struck a final time, slashing through the Count's heart in a grim parallel. They stood almost frozen like that for a moment before Jack withdrew his sword. Barbossa pitched down, dead, his face ashen, blood still pouring from his wounds.

And Jack, just for a moment, smiled for the first time in many years.

"_Why didn't he take the money first and kill the stiff second?"_

Elizabeth laid alongside Will on the bed, her eyes never leaving his face. "Oh, Will, will you ever forgive me?"

"What hideous sin have you committed lately," Will murmured, a hint of a smile in his voice.

"I got married," Elizabeth burst out. "I didn't want to. It all happened so fast."

"It never happened."

"What?"

"It never happened," Will repeated.

Elizabeth shook her head. "But it did. I was there. This old man said, 'Man and wife.'"

"Did you say, 'I do'?"

Elizabeth hesitated. "Well…no. We sort of…skipped that part."

"Then you're not married. If you didn't say it, you didn't do it --" Will turned his attention to the door. "--Wouldn't you agree, your Highness?"

Norrington had entered the room and was staring at them . He drew his sword. "A technicality that will shortly be remedied. But first things first --" He stepped forward. "To the death!"

"No. To the pain."

Norrington stopped short. "I don't think I'm quite familiar with that phrase."

"I'll explain," Will said. "And I'll use small words so that you'll be sure to understand, you wart-hog faced buffoon."

Norrington did a double take. "That may be the first time in my life a man has dared insult me."

Will's words were quiet at first. "It won't be the last. To the pain means the first thing you lose will be your feet, below the ankles, then your hands at the wrists, next your nose."

"And then my tongue, I suppose," Norrington interrupted with venom. "I killed you too quickly the last time, a mistake I don't mean to duplicate tonight."

"I wasn't finished," Will said without a trace of irritation. "The next thing you lose will be your left eye, followed by your right."

Norrington took a step forward. "And then my ears, I understand. Let's get on with it."

"Wrong! Your ears you keep, and I'll tell you why."

The look of fear that was in Norrington's eyes at the wedding was beginning to return.

Will continued, "So that every shriek of every child at seeing your hideousness will be yours to cherish. every babe that weeps at your approach, every woman who cries out, 'Dear God, what is that thing?' will echo in your perfect ears. That is what 'to the pain' means. It means I leave you in anguish, wallowing in freakish misery forever."

Norrington tried to collect himself. "I think you're bluffing."

Will, lying there, continued to stare at him. "It's possible, pig -- I might be bluffing. It's conceivable, you miserable vomitous mass, that I'm only lying here because I lack the strength to stand -- then again, perhaps I have the strength after all." Slowly, painfully, Will began to move. His body turned, his feet touched the floor, and he started to stand.

Norrington stared wide-eyed at Will, who was now standing, his sword in a fighting position.

"DROP YOUR SWORD," Will ordered, every word as clear as the water in the Florin Channel.

The Prince, panicked, dropped his sword.

Will gestured to a nearby chair. "Have a seat." Norrington again complied.

"Tie him up," Will said to Elizabeth. "Make it as tight as you like." With a small smile, she set to work.

Jack, having tracked them down by the sound of their voices - not to mention Norrington's protests - entered the room. He looked around quickly. "Where's Gibbs?"

"I thought he was with you," Will replied, surprised.

"No."

"In that case…" Will tried to step forward, but his balance betrayed him.

"Help him," Jack said to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth did so, asking, "Why does Will need helping?"

"Because he has no strength."

Norrington started wrestling mightily with his bonds. "I knew it! I knew you were bluffing! I knew he was bluffing…" His voice petered off as Jack lifted the six-fingered sword to the Prince's neck.

"Shall I dispatch him for you?" the Spaniard inquired.

Will considered the offer. "Thank you, but no -- whatever happens to us, I want him to live a long life alone with his cowardice."

"Jack! Jack?"

Will and Jack looked at each other, then went over to the balcony, Elizabeth following.

Gibbs stood below, leading four great white horses. He glanced up, spotting them. "Ah, there you are! Jack, I saw the Prince's stables, and there they were, four white horses. And I thought, there are four of us, if we ever find the lady -- hello, lady!" Here, he paused to wave to Elizabeth. She waved back, smiling. "--So I took them with me, in case we ever bumped into each other." He considered things a moment. "I guess we just did."

Jack smiled. "Gibbs, you did something right."

"Don't worry -- I won't let it go to my head." With that, Gibbs held out his great arms. Elizabeth stepped off the balcony, falling through the air like an angel from heaven.

Will and Jack watched as Gibbs caught Elizabeth. "You know, it's very strange," Jack commented. "I have been in the revenge business so long, now that it's over, I don't know what to do with the rest of my life."

Will paused, then said with a grin:

"Have you ever considered piracy? You'd make a wonderful Dread Pirate Roberts."

"_They rode to freedom. And as dawn arose, Will and Elizabeth knew they were safe. A wave of love swept over them. And as they reached for each other…Ah, never mind." _

"_What? What?"_

_Anamaria smiled lopsidedly. "It's snogging again. Don't think you want to hear that."_

"_No, no…finish your lovely story…"_

_Anamaria rolled her eyes, and opened the book again. "Since the invention of the kiss, there have been five kisses __that were rated the most passionate, the most pure. This one left them all behind. The end."_

"_Hmm…I liked the pirate part better."_

"_You would," a new voice said._

_Jack screamed as much as his throat would allow, scooting to the back of his bed, holding up a pillow like a shield._

_William Turner II, former captain of the Flying Dutchman, rolled his eyes. "Jack, when you behave like that, it becomes difficult to believe that you are the most famous pirate in the Caribbean." His focus switched. "Ana, do you have that book? Liam's still seasick, and he's getting restless, for lack of a better word…"_

_Anamaria stood up. "Aye. Here. Take it. Before Jack insists I read it again." She smirked and left the room._

"_Oi!"_

_Will raised his eyebrows. "Bedtime stories, Jackie?"_

_For lack of a better response, Jack merely mumbled, "Shuddup, eunuch."_

_Will strode out the door. "Clearly not!" he threw over his shoulder._

_Jack grumbled under his breath before settling down for some quality sleep. For a few minutes, all that could be heard was the gentle lapping of the waves, the whisper of a wind…_

_And then the youngest Turner's voice cut through it all._

"_What is this? Is this a kissing book?"_

THE END

**Sorry, had to end it like that…The Princess Bride shall become a celebrity on the **_**Pearl…**_** wonder how Jack's going to like that. Well, if you enjoyed, review!**

**Next Projects:**

**Fallen Angel, Chapter Five: Perilous Journey: Balian makes the voyage to the Holy Land; Robin faces that which has been hidden for ten years.**

**NEW STORY: Across the Seas, POTC.**

**Post COTBP, AU: Elizabeth and Will's love is stronger than ever. But when Will vanishes before the wedding, Elizabeth refuses to believe that he has simply abandoned her…not to mention their unborn child. Berated by society and pushed into accepting an unwanted proposal, Elizabeth leaves Port Royal to find Jack Sparrow…and her only love. But Jack has a story to tell, one which spells out a grim fate for Will and countless others victimized by a dangerous conspiracy. WE.**


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